


The Capuchin’s Tail

by DebbieF



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Companion piece to The Family That Spies Together Stays Together, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2019-01-05 02:14:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12180927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DebbieF/pseuds/DebbieF
Summary: This is a bit of fluffy fun with d'Artagnan's Capuchin. I hope it brings a smile to your faces. Be glad he is only a fictional character. Think of all the chaos he could cause if he were truly real. Ha ha ha! No offense meant to Capuchins everywhere.This is a stand alone story and is from Zaru's POV.++++





	The Capuchin’s Tail

If you are not familiar with me, let me introduce myself. I am Mizaru, or Zaru for short, d’Artagnan’s Capuchin a/k/a the Gascon’s other half. Ever since Alexandre d’Artagnan put me in my young human’s arms, we have become inseparable _(Athos, Porthos and Aramis, do forgive my pun)_.

Arriving at the Royal Palace, eventually we were ushered into the council chambers. I have to admit to not being on my best behavior. I set a poor example for Capuchin's everywhere that day. Paying little to no attention at the proceedings. Instead I chose to chase my tail in a dizzying circle, chattering nine to the dozen. Though I did have a keen eye set on Cardinal Richelieu's cape. I wondered how it would look on me.

I suppose if I had one fault, even though d'Artagnan said I have many, it's that I loved hats. When I pilfered Porthos', the great bear of a Musketeer, was not very happy with me. You have to remember those were early days in our acquaintance. I tended to grow on people the longer they knew me. Anyway, Porthos' hat was way too big for my head. Sadly I had to relinquish it.

Later when the humans finished their meeting, d'Artagnan took me along to visit further with his godfather at the Garrison. While they played a game of chess, I thought I would join in as well. After all, I would do so with Alexandre and d'Artagnan back home when they challenged one another. Moving pieces around the board I could tell Jean-Armand wasn't too pleased with my interference, if that dark glance he threw me was anything to go by. Giving the piece I held in my hand back to him, my tail had other ideas. Curling it around a rook, I strategically moved that piece on the board. A sharp slap to my hand from d'Artagnan was the boy's way of telling me to stop. So not what I had in mind. I decided right there and then to have a minor fit, throwing the rook away. Someone was always spoiling my creative tendencies.

When the time came for us to leave for our assignment, it ended up mostly becoming a comedy routine produced by the Red Guards. The cardinal's clumsy soldiers dropped the luggage that was to be installed in our carriage, spilling the contents everywhere. I tried to be helpful but one of the Red Guards, by the name of Ballesdens, took exception to that and had the gall to bat me away with his hands. The big, tough, man was afraid I would bite him.

After that type of treatment, I certainly would have enjoyed taking a nice chunk out of him so that Ballesdens couldn't sit for a very long time. I would have loved to hear how he would have explained needing a new uniform to Cardinal Richelieu. I screeched my displeasure at Ballesdens, showing how angry I was. Leaving d'Artagnan to pick up the pieces, meaning myself, gathering me up in his arms to calm my upset.

On the road, when we got close to Delaflote's estate, the fake accident was staged. I do believe Francoise could add to the family income by acting in the theater, if she so wished. But raising a son, helping with the farm and spying on top of all that, was a tall order already.

Our eventual arrival at the Comte's chateau went off without a hitch. Did I mention that Capuchin's tend to bore easily? Then again that could be just me. Because that's what I was at first - _B...O...R...E...D_ to death. That was before the maid scared me so, stepping on my tail. I don’t know who was more frightened. As for Delaflote I hated him, as if it weren’t obvious by my actions toward the Comte. I admit my aim was off when I threw those dishes at him in the kitchen. It would have been nice to have knocked the man unconscious. At least I got to jump on his head. Ha ha! Shame I couldn't have given him a heart attack but I came close. Nasty man.

One thing I grew tired of was the bickering going on between Athos and Milady during our stay. She did smell nice though. Her scent was pleasant, smelling like a field of flowers to me. It was the growing sadness that radiated from the swordsman every time he was with her that hurt my heart. There was a point where I wanted to bash their heads together and screech for them to stop their verbal one upmanship. Porthos would have been better at the _bashing_ part than myself.

Speaking of Milady, at first I wasn't sure what to make of her or whether or not I even liked her. I'm usually a good judge of character too. It always seemed to me that whenever Milady was around Athos that he appeared to be grief stricken. When I was outside with d'Artagnan she came up to us and for some reason, let's call it a monkey's intuition, I felt Milady had naughty intentions toward the boy. Screeching at her actually made my day. Jumping away from me, the way she had, I knew I had given her a bad fright. But, much to my surprise, she later grew on me.

Time came for the main reason we were there and that was to crack the Comte's safe. I was excited, as I always was, to be helping d'Artagnan do so. There hadn't been a chance to have a go at a safe since that time last year in Aquitaine. A bit nervous, thinking I may be a little rusty, d'Artagnan and I managed to retrieve the document King Louis wanted.

We then went back to our room. I didn't understand when the door shut behind me why d'Artagnan wasn't standing there with me. I tried to open the door but it was locked. So much for that. I spent a very restless night, until the next morning when Alexandre opened it up. Pouncing on him, I screeched out my worries. It was shortly later that we discovered our boy was missing. An uproar in the household then ensued.

It was a dreadful period being separated from my other half. Everyone in our party feared for d'Artagnan's safety. None more so than I. It felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest. Even when I took comfort as Francoise rocked me in her arms, I still felt the boy's loss keenly.

Did I mention how I hated Delaflote? Well I did. Finding out that he ordered his people to take d'Artagnan away from us just fueled my anger. It was Athos who demanded the Comte tell us where the boy was, and at swordpoint too. Alas, he got shot for his efforts and we were still left empty handed. Alexandre was furious, but I knew my human family well. The senior Gascon was as cunning as a fox, or _un renard_ , as the French would say.

Pegging Delaflote as a stupid man from the very first meeting, I wasn't surprised he fell for all the lies he had been fed. So happy didn't even begin to describe how I felt at leaving the chateau behind us. Still concerned about d'Artagnan, but knowing Alexandre had a plan, I looked forward to seeing Their Majestys again. Oh yes, even Cardinal Richelieu. I did so admire his cape, which I mentioned before. Red wasn't exactly my color, but I'm up for almost anything once.

Coming back to the palace was bittersweet, as we were missing d'Artagnan tremendously. A curious thing occurred when we met with King Louis and the cardinal. They told us that there was someone here that everyone should see. At first Alexandre argued about needing to find our boy first but the king insisted. That was when I found myself handed off, like an unwanted parcel, to a very nervous looking guard. Why I couldn't be with them, when everyone else was allowed in, I didn't understand.

Coming back out of the room, the d'Artagnan's appeared emotionally overwhelmed. It wasn't until later that I was allowed to go in that room with them. Discovering my beloved d'Artagnan was there, I was overjoyed to be reunited with him. Wrapping my arms around the youth's neck so tight it was a wonder that d'Artagnan could breathe properly, while my tail did a happy dance in the air. That wonderful feeling didn't last long, when I was abruptly brought back down to Earth after finding out the boy couldn't see a blessed thing. If his vision couldn't be restored, I would gladly be d'Artagnan's eyes for the rest of my life.

Talking to Athos, d'Artagnan was upset finding out the Musketeer had gotten injured on his behalf. In turn the older man felt badly for the boy's lost eyesight. Kissing the youngster on the temple had to be the sweetest gesture I'd ever seen a hardened soldier do.

Listening as everyone informed d'Artagnan of the plan to capture the Comte, I knew that the boy wished he could go with us. I'm sensitive in that way, picking up on feelings of others came easily to me. So it was that I heard regret in the tone of his voice. Hating to part from him so soon, knowing that somehow I would be needed in the coming battle, I reluctantly went with the others.

It was quite something fighting against larger numbers. Strange in a way that I can't explain also confusing. There was so much going on, I didn't know who to help first. Sitting in a tree, high in the air, was a good vantage point and let me see out over the area. That was how I spotted Aramis about to be shot in the back. Screeching as loudly as I could over the din, I got the Musketeer's attention. It gave Aramis time to move off to the side, in turn saving his life. Still it didn't prevent him from getting shot in the leg but that was better than being dead. Fortunately a young Musketeer took care of the Spaniard who had attacked Aramis, allowing for some breathing space.

When the younger Musketeer went over to help Aramis get up from the ground, I saw another Spaniard about to take aim on both men. There wasn't much of a choice for me. I did what I do best. Jumping on the enemy's head the man didn't know what hit him. Dropping his weapons, it allowed the two Musketeers free to escape for cover.

If someone would have told me what fun it was to scare the Spanish, I'd have done it before this. Having the time of my life, I was hitting out at the prisoners with my hands and snapping my tail at them. But jumping on their heads, from one to another, was the highlight of my day. Once more, someone spoiled my fun. It was Francoise who came to get me from tormenting our prisoners.

We all returned to the palace heroes this day. King Louis and Cardinal Richelieu were most happy with the outcome. Comte Delaflote was to be promptly executed the next morning. I have to say that it couldn't have happened to a better man. Thinking that this was the best news of the day, it got even better. Finding out later that d'Artagnan's vision was slowly returning to normal beat eating all the flowers and carrots I could get my hands on.

A big celebration was held for us later that evening. We all received medals from King Louis. I was surprised to find myself included in that part. Sitting on d'Artagnan's lap I was happily eating my carrot when the boy tried his best to take it away from me. Well he wasn't going to have it. But d'Artagnan tugged so hard that I lost my grip on the food. If a monkey could pout that's exactly what I did. Next thing I knew the young monarch was placing something over my neck. So that's why the youngster took my carrot from me. At first my attention was focused on the shiny object dangling from the ribbon. Soon though I lost interest. Nothing could compare to my carrot as far as I was concerned.

Tuning out the conversation the king was having with d'Artagnan, soon after the youngster whispered something in my ear. Really? A crate of carrots? For me? I hoped it wasn't a joke. The boy said it was to be part of my reward from the king for helping bring down the Comte. Looking up at King Louis, I purred softly. I only did that when greeting other Capuchins. This though was a special case and my way of thanking the monarch for his generosity.

With the celebrations concluded I, along with d'Artagnan, retired for the evening. On the next morning I couldn't wake the boy up. Hungry, I went in search of something to eat. Raiding the kitchen pantry should have been my obvious choice. Finding myself in a huge hall filled with flowers... well you could guess what I had for breakfast.

Having finished my meal I was feeling quite energetic. That lovely banister silently called out to me, as it usually did, whenever I was in the palace. Ah! There's nothing quite like the freedom of sliding down its glossy surface. Humans should follow my example, in my opinion. It would loosen up some of those pompous-type people that visit the king from time to time. Oops! Where did he come from? Sorry I startled you. Yeah. That's right. Don't fall down the stairs please. Too much of a mess if you did that.

Drat it! My boy's signaling for me to stop but I'm having such fun. Mmmmm, there's still the chandeliers. Ha ha ha! That's even better than the banister. Oh no no no! There's that shrill whistle piercing my ears. I hate it when d'Artagnan does that. The sound goes straight through me. Guess I better obey him. Now that I've done what he wanted, there's a young woman right in my face scolding me over eating the flowers. I ask you what were they there for if not to be eaten?

Finding out we weren't going to be at the execution after all, but with the queen in her gardens, pleased me very much. I already knew d'Artagnan really didn't want to attend. For myself I do enough hanging around without having to watch someone else do it. Passing the rest of the morning this way would be a pleasant experience for both of us.

At the d'Artagnan's appearance in the gardens, good news followed for my young Gascon. Then suddenly the boy placed me in the queen's arms, mind you I wasn't complaining about that part. She smelled as nice as her gardens. Seeing d'Artagnan embracing his parents, when they told him he would be staying in Paris after all, I was happy for the youngster.

A short time later d'Artagnan and I visited with his godfather again. Jean-Armand had a most interesting paperweight on his desk. Examining the object I could see that it was in the shape of a musket, just smaller. Quite unusual, then again, for a Musketeer captain not very. Confound that boy and his clapping! See what he made me do? Uh oh! His godfather's giving me the evil eye. Wasn't my fault. Blame d'Artagnan. He's why I dropped it in the first place. Thank heavens for Porthos wanting to drag d'Artagnan away to watch other men slashing at each other with swords and such. Sounded boring to me.

In the Garrison courtyard we joined Aramis over at one of the tables. Soon after Alexandre too turned up. Forgive me when I earlier mentioned that I thought this would be boring. Eyeing that feather on Aramis' hat called to something within me. Not that the Musketeer cared. No sooner had I begun playing with the feather, Aramis snatched his hat back. What did he think I was going to do? Have it for lunch? Then again I remembered when I had taken his hat before. It was a much better fit than Porthos' had been. Aramis probably figured I intended on keeping the hat for myself. Let him wonder. So while keeping my eyes on it, Aramis kept his on me... _stalemate_.

Even though my attention was elsewhere, I saw Athos' approach. Listening when he called d'Artagnan his protégé, I was proud of the boy. Thinking that I was the only one who truly knew how to enjoy life, I found myself surprised once again by the youngster's reaction to Athos' announcement. I didn't realize d'Artagnan had those kind of moves. Dancing around the table, one could forget that he was on the cusp of manhood. This cultimated in the joining of the inseparable's hands on top of d'Artagnan's, reciting the Musketeer's motto. It could have brought a tear to my eye, if only I were human.

All's well that ends well. Almost that is. I hate to keep repeating the same old line but I found myself becoming bored once more. What to do? What do do? Spying some shiny objects on a vacant table, I went over to investigate. I knew I wouldn't be missed. Too much excitement going on at the table I just left. Mmmmm. Pretty careless of those Musketeers leaving their weapons lying unattended. With a sly smile on my face, _which you delightful readers can't see_ , I'm going to have some fun.

The End


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